


Holding Hands

by Dont_pester_lester



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: M/M, Wrenchers Fluff, wrenchers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 13:55:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2350805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_pester_lester/pseuds/Dont_pester_lester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Wrench and Numbers held hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Hands

A few months into being partners, Wrench and Numbers started to spend time together outside of work.

Numbers’ sign language had been getting better and as their ability to communicate was growing, so was their fondness for each other. Being able to actually hold a conversation without Wrench having to write down everything he was trying to say made their conversations vastly more interesting.

Almost no one knew sign language in Wrench’s relatively new life as a hitman, so when Numbers started going out of his way to really learn how to sign, Wrench was flattered and excited. Numbers, who generally hated people, couldn’t get himself to hate Wrench. Wrench definitely made him angry sometimes, but on the whole, he was pleasant company.

The mainly went to bars. Wrench liked to watch football games, Numbers liked to drink a lot. It ended up working out well for the most part. They went for meals a couple of times, but it was always somewhere small and very casual, and usually happened right when they got home from a job.

Sundays at the bar were becoming their routine, assuming they weren’t on a job. Wrench had gotten used to getting text messages confirming a time and place Saturday afternoons, so he was a good deal confused one Saturday when the text asked what he was doing that evening. After a brief conversation Wrench suddenly found himself with plans to go over to Numbers’ apartment for dinner and a movie.

He didn’t know what to think about it. Of course, he looked forward to it, but he also didn’t want to get his hopes up.

Wrench was under no illusions. He liked Numbers. He liked Numbers a lot. The more time they spend together, and the better Numbers’ grip on ASL was getting, the more Wrench liked him.

Numbers, on the other hand, acted like he didn’t have feelings at all, and Wrench assumed that the feelings he was having towards Numbers were certainly one-sided.

That night, he arrived at Numbers’ apartment with no idea how the night would unfold. Numbers’ apartment was clean, but also fairly empty. There were very few things there that Numbers didn’t consider a necessity.

The only real furniture was the kitchen table, chairs, a couch, and the stand for the television. The floor was carpeted, and Numbers requested that Wrench remove his shoes.

Numbers was dressed down, at least compared to what he wore to work, wearing black jeans and a navy blue shirt with a small v-neck. Wrench couldn’t help but appreciate the chest hair showing over the neckline.

They had a drink while the food finished cooking. Wrench leaned awkwardly near the counter where Numbers was mashing potatoes. Wrench was impressed, he rarely ate anything that hadn’t been frozen. It looked like there were vegetables sitting in a steamer on the stove, and something in the oven.

He felt his stomach growl, and Numbers threw him a glance, before focusing him attention back on their dinner.

It wasn’t terribly long until they were sitting down to eat. Numbers presented Wrench with a meal of steamed vegetables, mashed potatoes, and steak. Wrench couldn’t thank him enough, and kept reminding Numbers how good his food was.

While they ate, Numbers told stories of places he had eaten on some of his jobs. Once in a while he would get sent far out of state for a hit, and when he did he made use of the time to try new foods. Some of the foods he was talking about made Wrench want to jump straight into his car and drag Numbers across state borders to go and try. Especially this barbeque place that Numbers had described. Wrench was a sucker for a good rack of ribs.

After dinner, which Wrench helped to clean up despite Numbers’ objections, Numbers asked if Wrench still wanted to watch a movie. When he did, Wrench was almost sure that he saw Numbers blushing. Wrench let the thought that they were on a date cross his mind for only a second before pushing it back out.

He happily consented to watching a film, but he didn’t know what would be good to watch. Numbers pulled out a couple films that he had and together they somehow managed to decide that watching Pulp Fiction was a good idea.

Wrench sat down on the couch as Numbers set up the movie. The couch was small, and Wrench sat in it awkwardly, trying not to take up too much space. When Numbers sat down next to Wrench, they each felt dangerously close to each other.

Wrench wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around the older man and smother him in kisses. He was certain that he thought about that scenario so often, anyone should have assumed he was a teenaged girl.

Similarly, Numbers was afraid that he would do something stupid, like rest his hand on Wrench’s knee, or start showering him in kisses.

On some level, Numbers knew how far gone he was, but he refused to admit it. They hadn’t been partnered long when Numbers had started dreaming (literally) about him and Wrench beating up useless drunks in alleys behind bars and instantly engage in a make out session with their after-fight energy.

Those dreams hadn’t bothered him too much, he assumed they were being born of his natural carnal instincts. The dreams that had started coming later and especially lately were troubling. Many of them involved nothing sexual at all, but rather intimacy. Numbers dreamed of him and Wrench eating together and they way that Wrench smiled at him. He dreamed of them watching television, Wrench’s head in his lap. Most unsettling had been a dream of the two of them driving down a long and deserted road, nothing but each other company, and their hands clasped together sitting on the console between them.

The scary part of it all wasn’t so much that it was Wrench he was dreaming about, but how the dreams were beginning to nag at him during his waking hours. Numbers found himself daydreaming, more than once, of holding Wrench’s hand on their long car rides.

Numbers had never really considered himself to be one for having friends or feelings. Suddenly it seemed like he had both. He found it confusing and a little intimidating. Not to mention that having no feelings meant that he was not practiced in reading anyone else’s. Numbers saw no signs that Wrench reciprocated his feelings in any way.

Both men sat awkwardly next to each other, trying not to touch at all out of fear that the other wouldn’t enjoy it.

Numbers was starting to feel uncomfortable sitting the way that was was, half crammed into the arm rest. He got up and poured himself a drink, which he drank most of before sitting back down. He let himself sit comfortably this time, and even left his hand sitting on his thigh, in case he was wrong and Wrench should want to make a move.

It panicked Wrench a little bit. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was a date after all. Date probably wasn’t the correct word, even if Numbers had actually intended for anything outside of friends to occur.

They continued sitting awkwardly next to each other for a while. Each of them were so caught up in thoughts of the other, and wondering whether or not they should make some sort of move, that neither of them were even paying attention to the screen.

Finally, when he was also fed up of sitting uncomfortably, Wrench shifted position to feel more comfortable, he did his best to make it seem accidental when he rested his hand on top of Numbers’.

Numbers initial reaction was a huge sigh of relief, but once he got that out of his system, he started laughing.

Wrench pulled his hand away when he felt Numbers shaking as he laughed.

"No!" Numbers said aloud through his laughter. He signed "no" at Wrench as couple of times, until Wrench was utterly confused. "I liked it," Numbers signed after he finally regained his composure. He placed his hand palm-up on his thigh.

Wrench looked skeptically at Numbers, wondering if this was some uncomfortably elaborate prank, but he ended up placing his hand in Numbers’ and they intertwined their fingers.

They held hands comfortably, which meant that they were sitting more comfortably in general, through the rest of the film, or rather as much as they got through before Numbers’ phone started ringing.

Aggravated, Numbers answered his phone to the news that they were being sent on a job and should leave as soon as possible. He arranged a meeting at the syndicate building for a half hour later, and explained what was happening to Wrench.

Numbers shut down the television and they both grabbed their coats.

They were about to leave the apartment when Wrench blocked the front door from Numbers. He was about to argue when Wrench firmly placed his hand behind Numbers’ head and leaned down to kiss him softly on the lips. It was awkward and Numbers seemed to freeze.

Wrench pulled back, scared he had made a mistake, when he watched Numbers’ usual grumpy expression grow softer until he smiled. Wrench smiled back and they left the apartment.

Wrench drove them to the syndicate, and their hands were clasped together between them for the entire ride. Numbers considered never letting them do that again when he caught Wrench admiring their hands held between them rather than watching the road. Secretly, he knew he would never ban this because it felt far too right, just as it had in his dream.


End file.
